


We’ll Be in the Hanged Man Before You Know It

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders knows about snow, Fenris is a broody chicken, Fluff, Gen, Hawke is incredibly optimistic, Snow isn't as fun as Hawke Says
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3944833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We have time. A quick circuit around the paths so we can tell Aveline that there’s no chance of bandits and we’ll head back. We’ll be in the Hanged Man before you know it!” </p><p>Those words, Anders thought with a sigh as he exchange commiserating looks with Fenris and Varric, were just as bad as a “how bad could it be” and “this is nothing…I’ve seen worse.”” Anders glanced up at the clouds again and frowned, trying to move the group along faster. Those clouds really were hanging awfully low…</p><p>A snow storm blows up while the group is out looking for bandits. Cave camping, Anders being sweet, Fenris being grouchy...and perhaps a little glimmer of something else...</p>
            </blockquote>





	We’ll Be in the Hanged Man Before You Know It

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this ridiculous post on Tumblr:
> 
> http://warriormaggie.tumblr.com/post/118888125748/marthas-adventures-in-the-fade-consolecadet
> 
> featuring a broody chicken...which made me think of Fenris wearing Anders' coat...

The snowflake drifted lazily from the bloated, pale grey clouds above to land, feather light, on Fenris’ nose. The elf scrunched up his face as a second flake landed almost on top of the first, the delicate icy lace melting into a thin rivulet of freezing water. “Hawke,” the growl was filled with annoyance, “It is snowing.”

“It’s just flurries. We’ll be fine. Fine, I tell you. Look, we finish scouting these paths for Aveline and we’ll be back to Kirkwall in time to play “what kind of meat is that” with the Hanged Man’s stew,” The grin Hawke shot Fenris fit somewhere between placating and happy. “Besides, isn’t it pretty?”

Pretty was one word for it. The clouds hung low, fat with a winter storm. The sea boiled and churned as the wind shifted from the West to the North, the waves curling and dashing against rock glazed with the first hints of snow and ice. It looked desolate, especially with the swirling snowflakes - the start to something truly miserable. Hawke just beamed at each little dot of icy lace.

“I just love snow. So does Beanie,” Hawke grinned at his mabari, the dog leaping in circles to snap at each flake.

Anders gave a deep sigh, partially at the dog and partially at his friend, “Hawke. It’s going to get worse.”

“Yeah? How much and how soon? I mean, are we talking steady snow or…you know…floomph?” Hawke’s hands sliced down through the air at the “floomph” as if to physically reenact blizzard conditions.

“Floomph. And soon. Possibly before we can reach Kirkwall if we don’t turn around,” Anders was eying the clouds with misgiving. “The wind’s shifting. Hawke, the temperature is going to drop and we’re going to get buried.”

“I don’t much care for snow, Hawke. Hard to walk through when you’re a dwarf,” Varric flapped at some of the snowflakes. “Iced rain. Only place to be when it hits is in the tavern with a cup of spiced wine.”

“I agree with the dwarf,” muttered Fenris.

“We have time. A quick circuit around the paths so we can tell Aveline that there’s no chance of bandits and we’ll head back. We’ll be in the Hanged Man before you know it!”

Those words, Anders thought with a sigh as he exchange commiserating looks with Fenris and Varric, were just as bad as a “how bad could it be” and “this is nothing…I’ve seen worse.”” Anders glanced up at the clouds again and frowned, trying to move the group along faster. Those clouds really were hanging awfully low…

***

Not even a half hour later and the group knew they were stuck on the coast for at least the night. The wind shift had brought about a sudden plunge in temperature, and just like Anders had predicted, the snow had picked up. So had the wind. Conditions went from cold and bleak to freezing and blindingly white – snow blowing fast and hard over the rocks.

They had just been lucky that the Wounded Coast was dotted with so many caves. The one they were in was hollowed out of the cliffs with a broad overhang at the front and a deep enough back to handle all four sleeping rolls and one wet mabari. Anders had taken one look at his companions and had said he’d go find kindling – he was the one from the Anderfels, after all, and had a passing knowledge of how to walk around in sub-freezing weather.

Returning with an armful of scraggly branches and kindling, the mage set to work building a fire underneath the overhang and in front of the cave opening. He was lucky he knew fire spells; the wood was so wet that conventional fire would have fizzled.

“Why build it out there? Why not in here?” Varric asked, wrapping his woolen blanket around himself and shivering.

“Because it will smoke us out if I build it too far back,” Anders gave the dwarf an apologetic smile. “Once we get some snow buildup, the cave will start to warm up. Body heat and all that.”

Hawke glanced up, “We can all pile up. Snuggle pile?”

That suggestion was met with a snort from Fenris and a considering look from Varric. “Can’t feel my fingers. May actually let you cuddle me, Hawke,” the dwarf said, appraising his friend.

“Bianca won’t mind?” Hawke teased.

“She’d prefer I be alive and unfrozen tomorrow,” Varric replied dryly.

“If you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll brew some tea. A hot beverage will help,” Anders pulled out a pot and went to fill it with snow. The group watched him place the pot over the fire. Gradually, the astringent smell of tea overwhelmed the metallic smell of snow and the group relaxed by degrees.

Life was slightly more bearable with hot tea and a fire.

***

It was during his watch that Anders realized that Fenris was having problems. Hawke and Varric were rolled up in their blankets and pressed against Beanie, the three of them snoring loud enough to wake bears. Anders sat near the fire, eyes watching the snow fall, mind blessedly clear for once.

The sound of teeth chattering had the mage glancing back into the cave, eyes meeting the elf’s.

Fenris was freezing. He couldn’t feel his feet, his hands were numb, his nose was a block of ice, and no matter how much he pulled his blanket up, he couldn’t seem to get warm. There had been a moment where he had almost crawled over to press against Varric, but his discomfort at being near other people reared and he was left shivering by himself.

The mage’s eyes met his and Fenris frowned. He didn’t need the mage to help him, not at all. Turning his head to take in the back of the cave, Fenris ignored Anders. Instead, he pondered ways to make Hawke’s life miserable. This was, after all, his fault.

The feeling of warmth startled the elf, green eyes swinging up to meet honey-brown. Anders said nothing as he draped his coat around Fenris’ shoulders. No words were spoken while long fingers pulled the warm, heavy garment completely around the elf. Nodding once Fenris was fully covered, Anders picked up his own worn blanket and returned to the fire, pulling the grey cloth around him as he resumed watching the snow fall.

The coat was heavy and filled with Anders’ body heat. It smelled like the healer – elfroot and embrium and a pleasant musky scent. Fenris inhaled and found himself relaxing as the familiar smell filled his nose, as the heat slowly seeped into his bones to relax and soothe him. A glance over to the healer showed that Anders had not moved, and Fenris felt comfortable enough to pull the coat closer to himself. He hunched down under it till the feather ruffled around his ears, and he was surrounded by warmth. Comfortable and finally warm, Fenris allowed himself to drift to sleep.

To be woken by a hand shaking his shoulder.

Green eyes blinked up into amused blue ones – Hawke looming over him.

“Morning there! You look like a ruffled, angry chicken with that coat on,” Hawke laughed.

Fenris frowned, growling slightly because he had been woken up and because Hawke was poking. Hawke laughed harder, giggling something about brooding chickens and then fleeing before Fenris could figure out how to get out of the coat.

The feeling of hands pulling at the fabric had Fenris glaring up into golden-brown eyes. A smile tilted up the mage’s lips, but for once Anders didn’t say anything. Fenris huffed and allowed himself to pull free, shivering as the cold air hit him.

“Did it help?” The words were nearly whispered, a flush filling the mage’s cheeks.

“Yes…it, ah, it did. Thank you. You did not have to bother yourself. I would have been fine,” Fenris muttered back, shuffling slightly as embarrassment wormed its way through his belly.

“It was no problem. That fire was warm and so was my blanket. Do you…will you be alright getting back to Kirkwall? The snow has stopped falling but it’s bitterly cold…” Anders’ words drifted into nothing as Fenris grunted. “Or I’ll just…leave you…”

“I shall be fine,” Fenris shifted again, catching Hawke’s grin and Varric’s inquisitive look. The interest from those two made heat flush into his cheeks. “Anders…”

“Mm?” The mage gave him a curious smile. “Yes?”

“Thank you for the coat. It was most gracious of you,” Fenris shuffled some more before wrapping his blanket around his shoulders. He moved to stand at the mouth of the cave and missed the look of surprise in Anders’ eyes.

Staring at Fenris back, Anders pulled his coat on and lifted one sleeve to sniff at the fabric. Underneath the smells of herbs and mage sang the sweet tingle of lyrium and elf. Shaking his head as if to dislodge a silly thought, Anders strode to the mouth of the cave, gave the snow a considering glance, and stepped into the sun.

“Well…the sooner we get started, the sooner we can be at the Hanged Man,” The mage called, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“You know,” Hawke said as he joined Anders in the snow, “I always think that when I set out. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can return.”

“Yeah Hawke…” Anders glanced over at Fenris. “Though sometimes I think that we don’t return quite the same as when we left.”

Startled green eyes met the mage’s and the blond man gave a wry grin before setting out. “Stay behind me and I’ll forge a path. Wouldn’t want to lose Varric in the snow drifts.”

Hawke’s laughter and Varric’s cursing filled the air, making Anders chuckle. He didn’t see Fenris pick up the rear, a thoughtful look filling his face.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I can be found on Tumblr under Warriormaggie


End file.
